


You're as Cold as Ice

by Quo_Usque



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Child Abuse, Cuddling, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Obimaul - Freeform, abuse mention, cuddling for warmth, more like kind of enemies to lovers who are still enemies, recalled but not taking place at the time of the fic, see chapter notes for more specific warnings, semi-naked cuddling for Medically Valid Reasons, sidious is a terrible person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-28 18:10:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13909431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quo_Usque/pseuds/Quo_Usque
Summary: Maul and Obi-Wan are stranded on an icy planet. Maul ends up injured and hypothermic. Clearly, the only solution is shirtless cuddling. Obviously.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, so please leave constructive criticism! I do have more planned for this story, possibly including smut. I have literally never written fanfiction before, but this ship just jumped out of nowhere and smacked me over the head and considering it's a bit of a rarepair I guess I have to be the ridiculous tropey trash I want to see in the world. Bear in mind that I have not read any of the novels or watched Clone Wars or Rebels (apart from that one scene in Twin Suns, you know the one), so all of my knowledge of Maul and the events between episodes II and III comes from reading Wookieepedia and fanfiction. So don't expect stunning canon compliance here.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, the abuse mention is for Maul thinking briefly about some of the things he endured in childhood, because Sidious is a terrible person. Any other warnings will be added to the tags and chapter notes as I update, if relevant.
> 
> Enjoy!

Obi-Wan shouldn’t have come alone on this mission. He should have sent for backup as soon as the ship’s proximity sensor started beeping. He should have been more alert and not assumed that the approaching object would simply be incinerated by the ship’s active shielding. He should have checked that it was actually a simple rock or bit of space debris instead of, for instance, a nudinium stealth hunter mine. 

But he didn’t do any of those things and now here he was, stranded on an icy rock in the ass-end of nowhere, carrying what he could salvage from his crashed ship on his back and making his way to the nearest mountaintop, praying that the peak extended high enough into the planet’s refractive atmosphere to allow his low-powered emergency beacon to push a signal to the the Jedi Council. Assuming, of course, that whoever had placed the mine didn’t find him first. The mine could have been leftover from some blockade or other, and Obi-Wan had stumbled across it by truly unfortunate coincidence. But, as Obi-Wan had been recently reminded (rather forcefully), assuming the best of situations just got you stranded on icy hell-planets. So he had to operate under the assumption that it had been a deliberate trap, and the information on which the Jedi Council had sent him on this mission had been designed specifically to lure him in. 

So, Obi-Wan trudged through scattered snow and rocks, up a narrow ravine, trying to keep under the cover of the weird-looking trees and keeping the narrow river on his right. The water tumbled down the ravine, skipping over rocks and filling the air with a dull rushing roar that Obi-Wan hoped would disguise the sound of his feet crunching through the snow if there were any auditory spy drones patrolling the area. He shivered, pulling his cloak tighter around himself in an attempt to block out the wind. Snowflakes drifted down half-heartedly from a white and dreary sky. It was well below freezing, and Obi-Wan would soon have to consider finding shelter, or else spend the entire night trying to keep himself warm with the Force alone. Well, that and rigorous calisthenics, maybe. 

Something tickled the edge of his senses and he was ducking before he could question why, a blaster bolt sailing over his head and burning a hole in the tree behind him. His lightsaber was ignited and in his hand, and he deflected two more bolts from two different directions. At least three of them, then. Obi-Wan crouched down and ran for a nearby boulder. Ducking behind it, he spotted a humanoid figure in white camouflage dropping from a tree, quickly joined by two others. Separatists? Bounty hunters? Disgruntled natives? They moved like soldiers. He didn’t have time to wonder; he was quickly becoming surrounded. He took a deep breath and extended his awareness, trying to pinpoint the locations of the ambushers around him. 

Obi-Wan leapt over the boulder with a Force-enhanced jump, catapulting himself over his assailants to land behind them. With a sharp swing, he cleanly sliced through one soldier’s wrist, whose blaster (and hand) dropped to the ground as the man stared at his brand new stump, too shocked to scream. Obi-Wan blocked bolts from the other two soldiers, then turned and dashed up the ravine, zigzagging between trees and boulders. \

With his Force-enhanced hearing, he heard one of them saying something into his radio, before the sound was drowned out when the one he’d maimed finally remembered to scream. Great. They had reinforcements. Legs and lungs burning, Obi-Wan scrambled up the slope, slipping on loose rocks and dodging tree roots and blaster fire. The ravine leveled out, becoming wider. Shit. This was a bad place to fight. The ground here was more open, the river wider, and cover was scarce. There was a large pile of boulders, more than twice as tall as he was, hugging a curve in the river, but it was too far from Obi-Wan. The two pursuing him were too close for him to hide. Maybe their backup was far away- no such luck. Half a squadron appeared from between the trees ahead of Obi-Wan, faces covered, blasters leveled. Obi-Wan reacted on instinct. He put the river at his back and concentrated on deflecting blaster fire, lightsaber a blur in his hands as he moved it left and right, intercepting bolts by feel alone. Just like the training exercises he had done as a Padawan. Except if he missed one here it would do a lot more than just sting. Obi-Wan shook himself, releasing all thoughts except for the present moment. He gave himself over to the Force. 

The soldiers were slowly advancing on him, falling into some sort of formation, clearly allowing themselves to take their sweet time getting close to him, banking on his stamina running out. Well, they wouldn’t have to wait long. Obi-Wan felt himself growing colder. Colder? His extended Force senses were tingling. With a horrible jolt, Obi-Wan realized that someone else was here. Someone whose familiar presence in the Force felt like frozen lightning. _No, not here. Not now._

A red lightsaber blade protruded through the chest of the soldier to Obi-Wan’s right. She fell with hardly a gasp. The saber turned off, sheathing its blade, then flew back to the hand of its master. Darth Maul was standing on top of the pile of boulders, a stark black figure against the white sky. _What the hell...?_ Black tattoos stood out against red skin, and his yellow eyes seemed to pierce right through the distance between them. Maul smirked at Kenobi, baring his pointed teeth. Obi-Wan’s attackers turned chaotically, suddenly uncoordinated and unsure who to fire at.

“In a tight spot, Kenobi?” Maul called. His sharp grin turned into a snarl, and he ignited both blades of his saberstaff, leaping through the air to land amongst the soldiers, his blades already flashing as he landed. Obi-Wan shoved his utter bewilderment back down his throat and seized the opportunity, taking advantage of the distraction to introduce the nearest soldiers to the business end of his lightsaber. Maul almost seemed to be having fun, using kicks as much as his blade, and even throwing his saberstaff into opponents and recalling it with the Force, like some kind of Sith Lord death yo-yo. Obi-Wan would have disapproved of the unnecessary showiness if he hadn’t been a bit busy. The soldiers scattered and ran for cover, leaving several wounded and dead in Obi-Wan’s and Maul’s wake, taking up positions where they could and firing at the two Force users from a safer distance. 

Maul and Obi-Wan ended up next to each other, deflecting blaster bolts, the river behind them. Obi-Wan estimated that there were five enemies still left. Maul hurled his saberstaff end over end at the closest soldier, bisecting him with a furious pinwheel of doom, which Maul recalled to his hand just in time to block the next bolt. Ok, four left.

“Do you have to show off?” Obi-Wan asked, as if a Sith Lord who regularly tried to kill him showing up to save his ass was a regular occurance. Maul treated his question as rhetorical. Which was good, because Obi-Wan plowed on: “What the hell are you playing at?” Maul’s saber flashed in front of Obi-Wan, blocking a bolt that his saber had already been in position to intercept, _thank you very much_. Obi-Wan gave Maul a flat look, and Maul gave Obi-Wan an expression halfway between a grin and a predatory snarl.

“Your death belongs to _me_ , Kenobi.” he growled. “I refuse to allow-” Maul’s eyes widened, staring at a spot behind Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan whipped around, and registered several things. One, there was a sniper in a tree that neither of them had noticed. Two, he was using a long-barrelled slugthrower, whose metal bullets could not safely be deflected by a lightsaber, and three, he was aiming it directly at Obi-Wan, and he was _so totally fucked._ In the next moment, a crack split the frigid air, and Maul rammed his shoulder into Obi-Wan’s, sending him sprawling out of the way of the incoming bullet, which struck Maul squarely in the chest. His snarl had not quite faded from his lips as he crumpled backwards, falling down the short, steep embankment and into the icy cold rapids behind them. Obi-Wan’s stomach dropped out of existence, replaced almost immediately by a burning firerand that he refused to call rage. Yelling, Obi-Wan leapt towards the remaining fighters, who cowered in place. Maul would not last long in water that cold, assuming the bullet hadn’t killed him outright. Obi-Wan had seconds before Maul would be swept away. The Force was ringing in his ears and singing in his blood and death was in his hands. Seconds was all he needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I said I'd upload this chapter when I wrote it, and it turned out that I wrote it today. Gosh, aren't there other things I should be doing? Like midterms and papers and jobs? Yes, yes there are. I did not do those things. I wrote this instead.


	2. Chapter 2

Maul was aware of several things before he opened his eyes. One, he was warm. Good. Two, he was in pain. Irrelevant. Three, he had no idea where he was or how he got there (not unusual), and four, he was not alone (yikes). Maul’s head felt as if it were wrapped in wool, his thoughts and Force sense muffled. He tensed, trying to snap himself into focus without alerting whoever was near him. He couldn’t afford to wake slowly; he had to be alert. Alert, alert, at all times. Stupid! Wake up.

The surface that Maul’s head was resting on moved- Maul belatedly processed the physical sensations around him. His head was pillowed on something warm that rose and fell steadily, and he could hear a thumping heartbeat. 

“Maul?” a voice close by spoke his name softly. There was an arm wrapped around his shoulders. He was resting his head on someone’s chest. Someone was holding him, holding him while he slept, watching him while he was defenseless, where was his lightsaber, why didn’t he know where it was, he had to know where is weapons were, always, how could he have let his guard down, stupid, useless, _where was his lightsaber-_

Maul surged upwards, attempting to spring to his feet but barely making it into a sitting position before he was stopped by a combination of his muscles giving out and the blankets he and his companion were wrapped in. He put a hand out to keep himself from tipping over.

“Maul.” A hand on his shoulder. Maul blinked his eyes, trying to clear his blurry vision. “It’s alright, it’s just me.” Maul turned his head. Kenobi. The Jedi was sitting up, an expression that Maul thought might be concern on his face. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. Why was Kenobi not wearing a shirt? Maul flicked his eyes away from Kenobi, taking in his surroundings.

“Saber.” he grunted. He and Kenobi were in a dim cave. The only source of light was starlight filtering in from the entrance about thirty feet to his left. The air hitting his chest was bitingly cold. He cast his gaze around. 

“What?” Kenobi said.

“Lightsaber.” Maul muttered. Where? He tried to reach out with the Force, sense the hum of the familiar crystals in the hilt, but the Force kept slipping away from him. Focus.

“Why, going to gut me right here, Maul?” Kenobi asked. Annoying. Irritating. _Where-_ Maul shoved Kenobi away and tried to push himself to his feet, only making it to his knees before swaying dangerously. Kenobi came to his knees beside him, reaching out to steady him. “You’re injured, you should lie back down-” Maul snarled, turning and grabbing the Jedi by his upper arms, shoving his face right into Kenobi’s and shaking him.

_“Where is my fucking lightsaber, Kenobi?”_ Kenobi stared at Maul for a moment. Maul tried to steady his harsh breathing and realized too late that he had let some of the panic into his voice. Slowly, Kenobi raised one hand, and Force-pulled Maul’s saberstaff into his palm. It came flying out of a dark pile that Maul realized were his robes. Still meeting Maul’s glare with his own steady gaze, Kenobi brought the saberstaff up between them and offered it to Maul, slowly and pointedly. Somewhere in the back of Maul’s mind, he registered that Kenobi was either being very brave or very stupid; probably both. The front of his mind was too focused on his weapon to question why. He snatched the saberstaff hilt from Kenobi, only realizing once one of his hands was taken up with his weapon that his hold on Kenobi was the only thing keeping him upright. Maul half collapsed back to the ground, Kenobi’s arm around his shoulders guiding him somewhat. Now that he had his weapon, Maul focused on slowing his heartbeats, and evaluating his situation. Kenobi was taking up a cross-legged position next to him. He was dressed in his pants and socks. Maul noticed with a frown that he himself was wearing only his underwear. There was a bandage around his middle, holding a medpad to his chest. He was lying on a thin sleeping pad and a jumble of blankets he and Kenobi had been wrapped in. It really was cold. Maul suppressed the instinct to shiver. He couldn’t show weakness. Nevermind that he was flat on his back with his mortal enemy looming over him, too weak to even sit up on his own. 

“Better?” Kenobi asked, a hint of sarcasm tinging his tone. Maul realized that he meant the saberstaff. He glared at Kenobi, no verbal comeback available. Instead, he settled for a question.

“What.” he said. Dumb. Useless. Fucking idiotic. He tightened his grip on the saberstaff, feeling the smooth metal, the weld in the middle, the activation switches. He tried again. “Kenobi, what.” Fuck. Kenobi quirked an eyebrow. 

“You were shot,” he said. “You fell into the river. I pulled you out. This is the closest shelter I could find. I’ve treated your wound; the medication might make you a bit fuzzy for a while.” 

Well, that explained it. _Damn it, Kenobi, this is why I don’t use medication._ Dulling pain dulls the mind, and makes you weak. You do not want to be weak. Pain makes you strong. Maul could hear the words in his Master’s voice, had heard them a hundred times. Maul held the saberstaff to his chest with both hands. He wondered for a second if he looked too on-edge, if he was making Kenobi wary when he ought to be lulling him into a false sense of security. Maybe he should let go of the staff, hold it in one hand. No. He had to be ready. For what, he wasn’t sure. But he had to be ready. The dark metal was cold beneath his palm. Maul felt the familiar ridges and dents, bringing himself back to the present. Maul knew that Kenobi hadn’t yet fully explained the situation. He struggled to grasp the thought, words slipping through his mind like smoke through fingers. 

“Wha- where’s my clothes.” Maul muttered, even though he already knew where his clothes were. Luckily, Kenobi understood what he was asking. 

“You had severe hypothermia.” he said. “Your clothes were literally frozen to your body. I needed to get you warm. I don’t dare light a fire, in case the group who attacked us aren’t the only ones out there. So, I used body heat.” Maul nodded vaguely. That was a remarkably clinical explanation for- whatever it was Maul had woken up to. He’d woken up to beatings, lightsaber attacks, yelling, poison gas, restraints, acid sprays, battle droids- but he didn’t think he’d ever woken up in someone’s arms before. Wrapping his mind around that seemed a bit out of reach at the moment. Maul shook his head. The fog in his brain was lifting somewhat. He looked at Kenobi and saw that he was still regarding him with that calm blue gaze. Maul snarled halfheartedly and deliberately turned his gaze towards the darkness-obscured roof of the cave, rubbing his fingers over the weld joining the two halves of his saberstaff. 

“Going to kill me later, then, Kenobi?” he said. “Waiting until I can give you a proper fight?” He shivered. It had to be below freezing.

“No, I’m not, Maul. I only fight you to defend myself or others.” Maul thought he could hear the frown in Kenobi’s voice. Maul let out a sound that was half groan, half laugh.

“Why bother? Kill me now, save yourself the trouble later.” He turned his gaze back to Kenobi, baring his teeth in imitation of a smile. “I won’t hesitate if I get the chance, you know.” Kenobi didn’t frown. He reached over Maul and picked up one of the blankets, draping it over him. Maul’s shivering slowed. “I won’t kill a defenseless opponent. It’s against the Code.”

“Why save me in the first place, then?” Maul said, trying to inject some venom into his voice. The stupid Jedi sat there implacably. It was _infuriating._ “Surely your precious Jedi Code doesn’t advocate being suicidally stupid. You should have left me in that river. Saving me won’t guarantee you the same mercy in the future.”

“I know. I didn’t save you to put you in my debt. Besides, you saved me first.” Kenobi said. “That shot you took was meant for me.” Maul furrowed his brow, trying to remember. Oh yeah, that was right. One of the assholes had tried to shoot Kenobi; Maul had pushed Kenobi out of the way. He remembered reaching out with the Force in near-blinding fury, feeling the crunch of the shooter’s skull in his mind as he fell. Good. He’d deserved it, trying to take from Maul what was rightfully his.

“So what, Kenobi?”

“Why _did_ you save me, Maul? I was under the impression that you wanted me dead.” Maul rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t want you dead, Kenobi, I want to kill you by defeating you in combat. There’s a difference.”

“So, only you have the right to kill me? And you’ll save my life to make sure you get to do it? That’s almost sweet of you.” Kenobi said. It took Maul a moment to realize that Kenobi was making a joke. 

“Ha, ha.” he said. He returned his gaze to the ceiling. His hearts were beating closer to their normal resting rate, now. Despite the freezing cold, his skin was coated in a sheen of sweat. What now? He believed Kenobi, for the most part. Everything he knew about the insufferable Jedi and his stupid fucking Code told Maul that Kenobi was telling the truth; he wouldn’t kill Maul in the middle of the night. Jedi didn’t do that. But Jedi were known to violate the Code, to give in to anger and turn Sith. Especially to avenge those they loved. His Master had taught him Sith history, had relayed countless stories of proud Jedi breaking their precious Code and discovering that they were no better than the Sith they hated. His own replacement, his Master’s current apprentice, was a former Jedi. Kenobi should be gloating over his victory right now. Delaying the actual death to savor Maul’s defeat. But that was the least Kenobi thing it was possible to do. Kenobi didn't gloat. Maul made it a point to know his enemies, to better predict what they would do, and he was sure that Kenobi’s convictions were stronger than his anger. He wouldn’t kill Maul while he was lying here, unable to even stand, unless Maul gave him a damn good reason to. Right? He was safe for the time being.

“-ing?” Belatedly, Maul realized that Kenobi had said something. Idiot. Pay attention. Master would have beaten you for being that stupid. Or drowned you. Or electrocuted you. _He isn’t my master anymore,_ Maul reminded himself, tightening his grip on the saberstaff.

“What?” he said, for the third time in as many minutes. 

“I asked, how are you feeling?” Kenobi said. Maul frowned. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked. Kenobi looked taken aback.

“How are you- it’s a simple enough question, Maul. Are you feeling alright?” Maul fixed him with the best condescending glare he could muster under the circumstances.

“I haven’t the faintest clue what the fuck kind of answer you’re looking for, Kenobi.” he said. Unfortunately, the Jedi did not take the hint to shut up.

“Ok, well, are you cold? Does your wound hurt? Is there anything else that hurts? Are you-” Kenobi waved his arms around, apparently at a bit of a loss for words“-comfortable?” Maul narrowed his eyes. Why would Kenobi want this information from him? He decided to go along with it; he didn’t think he had the energy to resist.

“Cold, maybe. Hurt, yes. Anything else, no.” Maul frowned. “Comfortable- why do you care if I’m comfortable? That has no bearing on my physical health.” Kenobi ran his fingers through his hair. Maul was evidently frustrating him. He felt a petty spike of satisfaction. Good.

“You should be- Maul, making sure you’re comfortable is literally the least I can do. I’m not trying to- to offend you, or whatever, I’m just doing the bare minimum, here. Anyone else would do the same.”

“I would have let you drown.” Maul pointed out.

“Ok, yes, well, I’m sure you would have. Anyone who isn’t a Sith, then.” Kenobi said. “It’s just basic human decency, Maul. It’s not a big deal.” Not a big deal. Maul huffed. Sometimes, no matter how much he thought he understood his enemy, Kenobi would abruptly provide a reminder that his mind was completely unfathomable. Maul didn’t think he’d ever truly wrap himself around Kenobi and his motivations and his utterly perplexing moral compass. Who was making him act so fucking altruistic? Did the Jedi Council punish Jedi who weren’t sufficiently nice to their mortal enemies? Did Kenobi just like rubbing it in that he had Maul at his complete mercy? Maul very suddenly didn’t like the turn this conversation had taken. He’d much rather go back to insulting and threatening the Jedi. Or trying to taunt Kenobi into killing him; that was always funny.

He rolled over onto his side, pointedly turning his back on Kenobi. He clutched his saberstaff, still hyper-aware of the Jedi behind him. The shivering had started again. Damn cold. He heard Kenobi sigh behind him.

“It’s the middle of the night. We should get some sleep and figure things out in the morning.” Maul heard him shifting blankets around.

“Go sleep somewhere else, Jedi.” he said. “I don’t trust you.” Which wasn’t exactly true- Maul at least trusted him not to kill him while he was sleeping, but still. It was the principle of the thing.

“Look, there’s only one pad, and there’s not enough blankets for both of us to sleep separately. It’s only going to get colder. Besides, your body’s ability to thermoregulate is compromised right now. I won’t have you freezing to death in the middle of the night just because you’re stubborn.” 

“Fine.” Maul growled, turning over to glare sideways at Kenobi. Kenobi looked like he wanted to reply, then thought better of it, lifting Maul’s blanket and lying down next to him. He arranged the other blankets over the both of them, including, Maul noticed, his brown Jedi cloak. Kenobi rested his head on his own balled up shirt. He glanced at Maul, lifting his arm in a clear invitation for Maul to resume his previous position of using Kenobi as a pillow. Maul bared his teeth at him.

“Come on, don’t be stupid.” Kenobi said. “You’re still shivering and we’ll have to be close together to share the blankets. And this way you’ll notice right away if I do decide to do you in while you’re sleeping.” He rolled his eyes with the last bit. Maul considered, and had to admit that Kenobi was right. He narrowed his eyes, letting Kenobi know that he wouldn’t be dropping his guard, even if he was acquiescing to this... cuddling. He let go of the saberstaff with one hand and moved closer to Kenobi. He slowly lowered his head onto the Jedi’s upper chest, tucking his head under his chin. He rested the hand with the saberstaff on Kenobi’s middle.

“Watch the horns,” the Jedi murmured as he got settled. Maul made sure to jab him in the chin, just once. Kenobi put his arm around Maul’s shoulders, drawing him closer and resting his hand on Maul’s arm. Kenobi practically radiated heat; he really was warm. Maul closed his eyes, listening to the soft sound of Kenobi’s breath and counting his heartbeats. He didn’t stop shivering for quite some minutes. He wasn’t entirely sure how much of it had to do with the cold.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Maul has a Bad Time, and Obi-Wan has the Bad Time right along with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter instead of my linguistics paper. Enjoy!
> 
> N.B. the tags and warnings have been updated to reflect the content of this chapter. See the end notes for a brief content description if you are concerned.

Obi-Wan didn’t usually dream. He was used to clearing his mind before sleep, releasing all his emotions and thoughts into the Force. In theory, anyway. He tried, but his every time he emptied his thoughts they just filled right up again with the Sith Lord currently snoozing on his shoulder. Not to mention the saberstaff resting right over where he kept all his important internal organs. It was like the thing was Maul’s teddy bear or something. He had been positively freaking out before Obi-Wan gave it back to him. Which he probably should not have done. He was just lucky that the pain meds in the medpad had thrown Maul for a loop, or he’d probably be missing his head and several other limbs by now. Obi-Wan sighed, shifting Maul in his arms as gently as he could so that he didn’t have a Sith Lord horn digging right into his nipple. Maul made a soft noise of protest, but didn’t wake up. He was still shivering. Obi-Wan opened himself to the Force and increased his body temperature by a few degrees. Even so, Maul’s shivering didn’t stop for some time. His familiar presence in the Force- like lightning frozen, destruction and utter stillness at once, like a held breath- was subdued now, like a reflection on an icy lake.

Obi-Wan did his best not to think about Maul’s legs tangled with his own, the cybernetics emitting a constant warmth. Maul’s cheek pressed against his chest, Maul’s arm slung across his body, Maul’s lean torso pressed to his side. Maul’s breath brushing against his skin. Yep. Definitely not thinking about any of that. Nope. And if he did, so what? It wasn’t his fault that Maul was an attractive man. _Sith Lord,_ he corrected himself. _Attractive Sith Lord._ Ugh. He was perfectly capable of acknowledging that about an enemy. One who really ought to be brought in and made to stand trial. Probably executed. Or whatever. He didn’t hate Maul; he was a Jedi. Jedi didn’t hate. But it sure didn’t feel like it was his Jedi training that kept him from hating Maul. From being excited, almost glad, every time Maul showed up to kill him. It didn’t feel like his Jedi training was what had made him pull Maul from an icy river, fish around with the Force to find Maul’s saberstaff as well, hike almost a mile uphill hauling a frozen, bleeding Sith Lord, then strip him, bandage his wound with his only medpack, then attempt to cuddle him back to health. Maybe it would actually be just fine to think about Maul’s legs.

It took Obi-Wan a long time to clear his mind enough to sleep. When he did, he wasn’t exactly surprised to find himself dreaming. Maul stood in front of him in a darkened room, stripped down to loose trousers. His tattoos seemed to keep shifting around on his skin. His chest expanded with each deep breath he took, and Obi-Wan was mesmerized, watching the red and black skin rise and fall. Maul’s muscles rippled as he began to advance towards Obi-Wan, but it was his eyes that held him, piercing yellow, like a cat’s. Some part of Obi-Wan was whispering that he really, really, _really_ should not be thinking of Maul like this, and a second part was whispering that it was just a dream, what did it matter anyway? And a third part was telling the other two to shut the hell up because _Maul’s biceps._ Maul approached Obi-Wan and draped an arm across his shoulder and smiled at him in a way he certainly never did in the waking world. Obi-Wan’s heart did an odd fluttering thing. Maul moved closer, placing his other hand on Obi-Wan’s chest. He had something around his neck. Obi-Wan leaned forwards to get a closer look at it. It was a chain. Heavy, rusted links wrapped around Maul’s throat, raw skin on his collarbones where the weight of the metal had rubbed. Obi-Wan felt sick. What was this? This was wrong.

Abruptly, the dream changed. Maul’s eyes widened in panic, and he reached out for Obi-Wan, but was jerked backwards by the chain around his neck, and Obi-Wan was jerked backwards too, because the chain was around _his_ neck, and he fell to his knees with a painful thud, then someone’s hand was on the back of his neck, forcing his face down into a tub of water, holding him, holding him, too strong, he couldn’t struggle- he couldn’t _breath_ \- and he was a small child, and the hand held him down underwater, and just before he succumbed to instinct and inhaled liquid into his lungs, it released him, and he pulled his head out of the tub with a gasp, but that one breath was all he got. The terrible hand was back, bearing down on the back of his neck, pushing his face down into the water. Stop kicking, he knew he had to stop kicking, he should accept his punishment, if he fought it it would only get worse, release, one desperate gasp, then back into the black water, and he could hear above him a voice, terrible and cold, a voice devoid of malice or hate, filled only with utter indifference- _Failure is unacceptable. You flinched. We do not flinch._ The hand was wet and cold and and slimy, like a dead fish on his neck. When it finally allowed him up again, he gulped air and used his first breath to say “Yes, Master.” Master did not reply, made no indication that he had heard- and Obi-Wan was standing beside the tub, watching a red-skinned Zabrak child forced face-first into the water, a cold white hand on his neck. Obi-Wan couldn’t bring himself to look at the thing the hand belonged to. Distantly, Obi-Wan knew that this was no longer his dream.

Obi-Wan forced himself awake, eyes snapping open in the dim cave. Maul had rolled off of him and lay curled on his side, facing away from Obi-Wan, knees to elbows, one arm wrapped around his head as if to ward off blows, the other clutching his saberstaff close to his chest. His grip was white knuckled, and his eyes were screwed shut. Obi-Wan couldn’t tell if he was sleeping, or if the dream had turned into a waking vision for Maul. Obi-Wan reached out with the Force towards him, and instantly had the wind knocked out of him. He lay on his back and gasped for breath. Maul’s subconscious mental defenses were a positive hurricane, an arctic ocean in storm, a chaotic whirl of Force, teaming around Maul in a maelstrom. Well then.

“Maul.” Obi-Wan said, from where he lay. There was no reply apart from the harsh breathing of his companion. “Maul, wake up!” he tried again, a bit louder. Nothing. Knowing that this was a bad idea, Obi-Wan pushed himself up onto his elbows and leaned over, placing a hand on Maul’s shoulder and shaking him. “Maul!” Obi-Wan found himself flat on his back, his wrist twisted in a vicious lock with his arm pinned across his body.  
Yep. Definitely a bad idea. Maul was on top of him, pinning him down. His other hand held the saberstaff, pressed under Obi-Wan’s chin, and one of his metal knees was digging into Obi-Wan’s diaphragm. His face was inches from Obi-Wan’s, pointed teeth bared and eyes wild and bright in the dark. Obi-Wan’s attention was split between the saberstaff at his throat and the teeth in front of his face. Maul’s fingers hovered a hair’s breadth from the saberstaff’s switch. 

Obi-Wan’s heart pounded, adrenaline surging. He could probably knock the saberstaff away in time. Probably. He’d have to incapacitate Maul immediately after that- a strike to his wounded chest? Maul always seemed indifferent to pain but maybe... Obi-Wan was acutely aware that if Maul decided he wanted to kill him, he would die. He had to make sure that Maul didn’t decide that that was necessary. He forced himself to relax as much as possible beneath Maul, making it clear that he wasn’t going to fight him. He gritted his teeth against the grinding pain in his wrist.

“Are you going to kill me, Maul?” he asked, as calmly and quietly as he could. Maul was still breathing harshly, his breath hot on Obi-Wan’s face. He didn’t move, which, all things considered, was a good sign. “Maul?” Obi-Wan prompted again, hoping his name would garner some sort of response. The wild look was fading from Maul’s eyes.

“Kenobi?” he whispered. He sounded confused. He glanced around, seeming to take in the situation. He shook his head slightly, as if shaking off the last cobwebs of the dream. His eyes came into focus, and he growled down at Obi-Wan, tightening his grip on his wrist and digging in with his knee, causing Obi-Wan to grunt. Maul narrowed his eyes and hissed, “What the fuck is wrong with you, Jedi?” Obi-Wan would have sighed in relief if it weren’t for the cybernetic knee currently bruising his diaphragm. This was the Maul he knew. He could deal with angry, threatening Maul. 

Obi-Wan smiled his best disarming smile, which he knew pissed Maul off. “You were having a nightmare.” he said. “So I woke you.” Maul snarled and shoved himself off Obi-Wan, rolling to lay on his back beside him, arms folded, glaring at the ceiling. 

“It’s none of your damn business what I dream, Jedi.” He growled. Obi-Wan tried to rub the feeling back into his wrist. An angry Maul was a Maul in familiar territory. Obi-Wan knew that Maul could control his anger, ergo an angry Maul was in control of himself, and was less likely to murder Obi-Wan as a startle response. Angry Maul was a Maul who was arguing, insulting, or silently fuming, not murdering. Obi-Wan was intimately familiar with Maul in combat, and he knew that Maul didn’t fight angry. 

“It is my business when I’m dreaming it, too.” Obi-Wan said. “I would greatly appreciate it if you would put up your mental shields before you sleep.” The adrenaline rush was starting to fade. His wrist hurt.

“If my mental shields are down, it’s because you fucking drugged me.” Maul spat. Obi-Wan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Yeah, right. He’d seen Maul’s mental defenses before they’d knocked him on his metaphorical ass. They might be powerful, but they were a fucking mess.

“Well, Maul, if you need some _help_ , I’d be happy to calm your mind for you.” Obi-Wan said, acid tinging his tone. 

“Stay the fuck out of my head, _Jedi._ ”

“That would be a lot easier if you weren’t projecting your damn dreams straight into my brain!” Obi-Wan snapped. He cringed internally. He was a Jedi. He wasn’t supposed to speak in anger. But what was the point? Maul wasn’t exactly going to reprimand him for being a bad Jedi. He didn’t have to set an example for him, like he did for Anakin. He could get as mad as he wanted around Maul. But even as Obi-Wan breathed out a sigh, the anger faded. He was tired. Maul was injured. They both needed their sleep. “Look,” he started, in a softer tone. “I can calm your mind so you don’t dream. I won’t be in your head. I won’t see anything you don’t want me to see.” He waited. Maul didn’t reply; Obi-Wan could feel his reluctance. “We both need sleep, Maul. Neither of us need another nightmare like that. What you dreamed was-”

“Don’t tell me.” Maul said softly. Obi-Wan stopped. “I never remember the dreams. I don’t want to know.” 

“Oh.” Obi-Wan didn’t know what else to say. They lay there beside each other, not touching. Not talking. Obi-Wan was almost asleep when Maul spoke again. He was so quiet that Obi-Wan almost didn’t hear him.

“You can take away the dreams?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Maul said. He rolled onto his side to face Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan turned as well. “Do it.” Maul was tense, as if he was bracing himself for an attack. Slowly, letting Maul see his movements, Obi-Wan reached a hand across to Maul and placed it at the base of his skull, wrapping around the back of his head. It was uncomfortably close to where Maul’s master’s hand had been when he tortured Maul. Obi-Wan tried not to think about that. Maul was staring at him, his gaze seeming to bore a hole straight into Obi-Wan’s soul. He felt incredibly exposed in front of those eyes. He always did.

“You need to relax.” he told Maul. “this won’t work if you fight me. Breath.” Maul took a slow inhale, and visibly forced his muscles to un-tense. Obi-Wan synchronized his breaths with Maul’s, and reached out with the Force. He dismissed a sense of unease, the worry embedded in him since childhood that contact with the Dark Side would corrupt him. He knew who he was; Maul couldn’t make him into a Sith by his mere presence.

The Force around Maul was no longer lashing out, but it was still a tangled mass, sharp and precarious. Obi-Wan brushed against it gently, and felt Maul contract, drawing inward. “You need to let me in. Just a bit. I won’t be inside your mind. You’ll be able to kick me out any time, I promise.” Maul held his gaze unblinkingly, and on his next exhale, began relaxing his barriers. Obi-Wan could feel the effort it took him. He held back, only maintaining a slight contact, as Maul forced himself to allow Obi-Wan close enough to form an empathetic connection. 

Obi-Wan was struck by how fucking awful Maul’s training must have been, if he was struggling this much to allow such a basic Force connection. It was the kind of connection that Jedi briefly made when they passed each other in the Temple halls, like saying hello with the Force. Something so taken for granted that most padawans picked up the habit without even noticing. Obi-Wan let his emotions flow out of him, dissipating into the Force. Maul didn’t need to be feeling what he was feeling, on top of whatever Maul was feeling. 

Obi-Wan could now feel Maul in the Force. Not the tight, cold, presence he felt from a distance, but Maul, actually Maul. Keeping their breathing synchronized, Obi-Wan synchronized his Force sense with Maul’s, brushing against his outer psyche and mimicking its movements and turns, feeling the ebb and flow of Maul’s mind and following it until they became one. With other Jedi, this was usually an almost instantaneous thing, just getting a sense of how your friend’s day was going and feeling it along with them for a moment. With Maul, it was more difficult. He kept shying away from Obi-Wan. But Obi-Wan persisted, adapting like water flowing downhill, until he was feeling and flowing along with Maul. This was almost exactly like one of the basic training exercise his own master had taught him when he was a child. Obi-Wan could tell when Maul started to allow the synchronization, giving space for Obi-Wan’s Force presence. Maul’s thought patterns were different from anything Obi-Wan had ever felt before. Obi-Wan refused to analyze it, letting it flow through and from his mind, releasing even his vague sense of discomfort. Maul deserved that much privacy, at least. 

“Alright, now follow along with me.” Obi-Wan said. He began to change the pattern of his own Force presence, never deviating far from the natural stream of his own and Maul’s linked projections. Like guiding a river down a new channel, each change a natural extension of the last, but slowly guiding both of their thought patterns along an entirely new path. It was a basic communal meditation technique. Maul was reasonably adept at following along, imitating the new pathway that Obi-Wan set, picking up new patterns quickly. His eyes had gone unfocused. 

Obi-Wan guided himself and Maul through his basic evening meditation, smoothing the rushing current of their mental stream, aligning tangled strands of thought and dislodging clumps and debris, sending them flowing downstream and out into the greater Force. It was not a fast process. Maul had clearly never meditated like this before; he had a lot to smooth out, and he kept introducing new tangles and obstacles. Obi-Wan smoothed each one, his patience near infinite when he was meditating like this. As the river of their consciousness began to flow smoothly, Obi-Wan began to slow the current, calming himself and Maul until their combined Force presence was a still pool. Maul’s eyelids drifted shut. He was asleep. 

Obi-Wan carefully withdrew his presence back into himself, removing his hand from Maul’s head. He wanted to sleep as well, but there were too many thoughts nagging at him. Sighing, he broke his meditative state. He had a strange, uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. He felt as if he had just done something incredibly intimate with Maul, even though it was literally the most cursory of Force connections, and a simple meditation exercise he had done with who knows how many other Jedi and padawans. And yet, it was something Maul had clearly never experienced before. Had never been allowed to experience. 

Maul’s face was relaxed, like it never was when he was awake. For the first time, Obi-Wan wondered about Maul’s history. What his training had been like. Why he hated the Jedi. Why he adhered to the Sith. He had never wondered about Maul’s motivations- a Sith was a Sith, and the Sith wanted to destroy the Jedi. Easy. But Maul hadn’t been born a Sith, just as no one was born a Jedi. Did he have a family? A mother? Obi-Wan realized that he had never truly considered Maul as a person before. Maul was certainly easy to despise. It was a lot easier to simply think of him as an enemy to be defeated when he was just a Sith Lord. But now that he’d had a glimpse into how Maul had been made what he was- Obi-Wan snorted softly when he realized that he was feeling sorry for Maul, and just how much Maul would fucking hate that if he knew. Obi-Wan adjusted the blankets over himself and Maul. He put his arm around the Sith Lord and drew him closer, letting himself pretend it was purely for practical reasons. Sleep was swift in coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated warnings: Maul has a nightmare, in which he remembers Sidious forcing him underwater as a form of punishment when he was a child. 
> 
> So I realized that I hadn't stated what was up with Maul's legs. Did Obi-Wan cut him in half? Did he glue his legs back on? Does he have cyberlegs like in canon? Well, I finally made up my mind, and had Obi-Wan cut him in slightly less half. I decided to move the cut down a foot or so, because I have a feeling that Maul is gonna need that dick. So from the upper thighs down, Maul is a cybersith. 
> 
> When I drafted this chapter I literally had a note on the first mention of Maul's legs that said "LEGGS???" to remind me to state that they were cyberlegs, lol.
> 
> Stay tuned for: Awkward conversation! Glaring! Arguing! Grudging respect! The Author employing every imaginnable excuse to get these two physically close to each other! Maybe even some plot! (I doubt it though).

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is actually the second one; I do have a plan to write the first one, showing how Maul ended up in his predicament in the first place. But I wrote this one first, and if I don't post it now, I never will. 
> 
> Please leave kudos if you like it, and comment! If you don't know what to comment, just tell me what your favorite part was, or point out something that didn't quite work for you, so I can work on my writing skills.
> 
> P.S. Sorry about the lack of paragraph indents; I am new to CSS and HTML. Perhaps one day I'll get around to figuring out how to make it happen.


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